


One Thousand And Fifty

by Zarius



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Episode: s12e07 Can You Hear Me?, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Markings, Post-Episode: s12e07 Can You Hear Me?, Post-Episode: s12e10 The Timeless Children, Pre-Episode: Revolution of the Daleks, Prison, Song: Be Like That (3 Doors Down)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 07:41:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26968414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zarius/pseuds/Zarius
Summary: A Judoon officer is curious as to what the markings on Prisoner 23-11-1963's prison wall indicate. The prisoner is all too happy to explain, provided it doesn't mean she has to serve up dried chicken toasties...
Relationships: The Doctor & The Doctor's TARDIS, Thirteenth Doctor & Graham O'Brien, Thirteenth Doctor & Yasmin Khan & Graham O'Brien & Ryan Sinclair, Thirteenth Doctor/Graham O'Brien, Thirteenth Doctor/The Doctor's TARDIS
Kudos: 6





	One Thousand And Fifty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vgault](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vgault/gifts).



"Prisoner 23-11-1963, explain your actions" uttered the demanding, and commanding, voice of the female Judoon detention officer as she shattered the peace and calm of cell block S11-SUC.

The prisoner inside cell cubicle 12-REGEN stood up as the officer entered, dropping the chalk on the floor.

"Explain these markings"

"Oh, just decoration. You never supply us with wallpaper, you probably should. I like butterflies on mine, but not Earthly butterflies, no. The chrysalis Butterflies of Tefla Blazenworth, they have this unnatural ability to carry their cocoons on their backs even in their advance state, eventually when they die, oh it's a sad thing, the chrysalis breaks off and produces another Tefla caterpillar, and the cycle repeats once it advances to the butterfly stage. They're well worth immortalising on your wall, you should try it sometime"

"Irrelevant information, explain why these markings are present" the Judoon replied, a strict no tolerance edge to her voice. There would be painful consequences if there was no direct answer from the prisoner.

"You have Silence as your prisoners also, you don't remember them, do you? That's why you've got to mark down each encounter, so you don't. It's alright, there's not enough to stage a takeover, that's only the first row of markings"

"Explain the others, I calculate a total of one thousand and fifty markings excluding the ten to fifteen on the first phase of the wall"

The prisoner smiled, her eyes staring mischievously up at the roof of the cell, the lamp projecting it's light onto her, as if basking her in a heavenly glory.

"Wouldn't you like to know"

"Information requested"

The prison's eyes lit up.

"Requested? Not demanded? Imagine that, you're being respectful of your prisoner. Nothing like the lingering scent of temporal grace on me. That's from my ship that, lets me know it's near even when it's so far away. It's a calling, lets me know it'll find its way back to me, or I'll find its way back to her, it's such a clever thing, or I'm such a clever person"

"The markings you will explain, or you will take up registry with the mess hall service"

"Oh no, no not the mess hall, all they demand you serve to eat these days is real dry chicken toasties, and not even with Philadelphia spread on them!"

"If markings are explained, registration and servitude will be repealed"

"Alright, alright you got me, they're not specifically one thousand and fifty days, hours, minutes or seconds, they're...one thousand and fifty possibilities I can realise in the days I can spend with my family.

I know escape from here is a hard thing to grasp, but it's the dream you know? Everyone here may have a multitude of sins scarred on their souls, but the dream of release is always constant, and sometimes the reality is many of them never live long to see it realised. Sometimes they don't deserve it, sometimes even I don't think I deserve it.

But I'm someone who can travel through time, see their waking hour, and in an instant, see them rest at the end of the day. I'm the one to set their alarm or tuck them in, I'm their best kept secret 'till I spoil the surprise for others we meet.

In my current lifespan, I've met the most incredible people, including the strongest man I've ever known, a man who had an opportunity to administer the wrong kind of justice to the right kind of felon and restrained himself, pulled back and clutched to the tips of reason. It was right then and there that I knew I was in love, and just being in his presence could define the way I lived this latest life. I want to spend as many days with him as I can, I have to envision I will, that's what those markings are, the one thousand and fifty ways I can make his days amongst the living the happiest in the span of his lifetime.

He doesn't have that much of it left, he's sick, he tried to tell me as such and I, like a coward, brushed it off, because I couldn't face it down. I told him it was because of social awkwardness, but it was because I was terrified of losing him, and giving in to that fear the longer the conversation went would only unsettle him further. I wasn't ready to face saying goodbye, not with one thousand and fifty ways to show him how important he was to me.

You can understand that, can't you? You're a woman, you must have a mate, you must have a family, waiting for you at home, not knowing if this is the day a prisoner gets their own back, the day all the letters stop being written, that you'll never see them again, nor will they you.

What would you give for one thousand and fifty ways to show them how much you care?"

The Judoon mulled over this, she pointed it's weapon at the prisoner, and ordered her to stand aside.

The weapon fired and grazed the wall, leaving a one thousand and fifty-first mark.

"Prisoner will resume"

"Thankyou" she said

The Judoon officer walked down the corridor, smacking her baton across the remaining cell doors to rile up the rowdier prisoners.

The prisoner was left with her thoughts. 

Those thoughts turned to song 

_She spends her days up in the north park_

_Watching the people as they pass_

_And all she wants is just a little piece of this dream_

_Is that too much to ask?_

_With a safe home and a warm bed_

_On a quiet little street_

_All she wants is just that something to hold on to_

_Thats all she needs_


End file.
